


The Crossing of Thederin

by HopefullyDreadful



Category: war in the shade
Genre: Bodyguard, F/F, F/M, Lesbian Cops, M/M, Modern AU, Strangers to Lovers, assassination plots, late 80's to early 2000's, possible police chase
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 08:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefullyDreadful/pseuds/HopefullyDreadful
Summary: A modern(ish) fic based around the lovely work of @warintheshade on Tumblr. Kellen Kaursson is a detective on a very super-secret case, a plot for assassination, rumours flying, an engagement party, and a buddy cop romance to spice things up. Read the comic here: https://warintheshade.net/





	The Crossing of Thederin

Kellen Kaursson was not one to judge books by their covers, but she stared disdainfully at the doors before her. Taking in a deep breath, she reached for the door hearing the shrill jingle of bells being hit as it slid open. The shop itself smelled of... something, like a dozen leather boots and a couple of bottles of hair gel and copper wire had died there. What drew her attention away from the inevitable hacking fit was the odd set up of the shop itself. Along the walls were shelves stocked full of records with obscure names alongside the big ones. Names like 'Birds on Stilts' and 'Rocket Punch Apocalypse' in between classics like Frank Sinatra and Johnny Cash. Glass showcases of unmistakably handmade, but gorgeous jewelry took up the meat of the room, with a table hosting a thick catalogue in the center. Kaursson smiled to herself, looking over a rather gorgeous pendant, until she noticed the price which was way above her pay grade.

She was here to talk to the current manager of the store, whoever that may be currently. From what she uncovered there were two people leasing the location, and she was determined to speak to them. Making her way to the back of the store, she examined the cashier. He had reddish brown hair which was being pushed back the chunky headphones he had on his head, darkened glasses covering his eyes, and a relaxed smile gracing his features. As she stopped in front of the desk, she noted two small, white scars on his face. One on his jaw, which moved upwards toward his cheek for an inch or so, and another peeking out from behind his glasses. He had a thick paperback book in his hand, obviously enraptured with whatever work of fiction he had stumbled upon. She felt her jaw clench as she looked over at the cash register. It wasn't ancient per se, but it wasn't a marvel of modern technology either, rather like the cassette player he had his headphones plugged in to. Next to the register was a large red binder that read ‘ANSMOR'S WICKED SETS’ in bold, black lettering on silver duct tape, the binder covered a quarter of an envelope with a thick, maroon wax seal with an ‘X’ as the insignia.

Apparently, the other owner had an issue with this man selling his wares, for on the antique cabinet behind him there were three bright yellow signs; ‘BACK ORDERS’, ‘NOT FOR SALE’, ‘DO NOT’. Barely visible behind the reflective surfaces was a few decorative boxes and a couple of mannequin necks hosting necklaces. A vase of light pink tulips drew her attention to the cheap clock behind him- she checked her watch, it had run out of batteries, being stuck on 7:30.

“Hello, sir, my name is Detective Kaursson and-” She cut herself short, nearly hitting herself for trying to speak to him, looking at the bell on the countertop. ‘PLEASE RING’, said the hastily written note with an arrow pointing to the silver service bell next to it. She hit the bell. The shrill sound seemed to set the young man into action, setting the book down in a hurry onto something behind the desk and standing up as straight as a board. Chest falling and rising in quick, shallow breaths he grinned at her from behind the barrier.

Her eyes moved quickly over his features, having taken a small step back at his sudden movements.

“Hello, I am Detective-” He put his hand up, cutting her off, again. He paused the cassette player and set his headphones aside with a slow reassurance. She wondered how he managed to keep customers if this was how he acted.

“Sorry about that, ‘s been a slow day,” he started, lisp drawing out the strong sound of his s’s, “The name’s Ansmor, how can I help you?”

“Yes, well, I am Detective Kaursson and I am here to discuss your lease with Cross Thederin.” His tanned face went a shade paler, and she could swear she could see the sheen of sweat begin to form on his forehead.

“Oh, uhm, wuh-why? You’re not here to collect it are you? We’ve still got a month!” His hands were moving frantically, gesticulating wildly as he spoke; he had pretty much told her all she needed to know, but she pressed on. She needed this information, no matter how small it might be.

“No, sir, I am just here to ask about how Mr. Thederin handles it.” She bit at the inside of her cheek, turning over her next words carefully, “Does he threaten you and your business partner?” This seemed to stir something in him, the gears in his head started moving and he pushed down his glasses a bit so he could view her over the top of the lenses. She stared back, expectantly. She kept her composure as well as she could in that moment, every part of her screaming ‘GET ON WITH IT’ as the shopkeep mulled it over. The familiar ring of the bells at the door broke the heavy silence, snapping his attention from her to the new customer. She was short, long chestnut brown hair forming curtains around her heart shaped face. Ansmor grinned at her and waved, “Hello, ma’am, let me know if you need help with anything!” Turning back to Kaursson, he let out a small sigh, shaking his head a little.

“Sorry, have to tend to the customers first. Now, Cross doesn’t really act outwardly abusive, in fact he’s rather nice to us. Clune, of course, swears up and down that he’s been sending ‘goons’,” said with air quotes, “to check in on us and hassle him for the rent. I’m not sure what to believe, but we got a letter from him today!” He hastily picked up the sealed envelope that was previously left without acknowledgement, handing it over to her. “He’s also asked me if I could perform at his engagement party! I think that’s pretty swell, and he’ll pay me quite a bit if I do well enough-”

This is where she stopped listening, zoning him out as he continued to ramble onwards, telling anecdotes and going down rabbit holes rife with digressions. She went to break the wax seal on the envelope before a smooth voice broke her focus.

“Isn’t it a felony to open up someone else’s mail?”

She had come out of nowhere, white sundress shifting as she set down a small order sheet with a date written on it in neat, small handwriting. Ansmor took it with a nod and started to dig around in his pockets for a key. Kaursson’s attention had once more been drawn from the man and she stared down the shorter woman.

“Hello, I’m Detective-”

“I know who you are.” Once again, Kellen Kaursson was cut off, this seemed to be a trend today. Her brows furrowed a bit as she opened her mouth to speak, “Now, who might you be, ma’am?”

“Helia, that’s all you need to know for now. I hear you’re wanting to get some inside information on our dear Cross Thederin?”

“Where did you-?”

“Why, Mr. Lysander of course. He was just saying how you came to discuss the rent with him, which can only mean you want to know about Cross.”

Kellen Kaursson was not one to judge books by their covers, but as she stared down with a mixture of confusion and disdain at the woman before her she knew, she just knew, she would be trouble.


End file.
